At Winter's End
by Makazi
Summary: Shortly after the events of the first film, the mayor's daughter suddenly disappears. Nome's best sled teams are sent out on an expedition to find her - but things go awry, and two foes must work together to survive.
1. A Messenger in the Night

In the shadowy dominion of night, Balto awoke to find himself nestled into Jenna's side, a bear skin rug beneath them, and with the gentle thrum of the fireplace droning on. Thus it had been for the past several weeks since his return, wherein the diptheria epidemic had been checked and Jenna's owners had taken him in willingly. He was still getting used to domestic life, and wasn't sure if he would ever grow fully accustomed to it. At the very least he was still a sled dog: Leading the team back to Nome in near blind conditions had earned him a new-found respect amongst the dogs and humans, and as a subsequent result he was elected as lead dog of the team that Kaltag, Nikki, and Star ran - the team that was formerly Steele's.

He had seen little and less of the husky since his return. While he ran mail, wood, and gold, Steele was either staying at home or with another team doing other things - he wanted naught to do with Balto, and the half-breed didn't entirely blame him. His situation was deserved, but it was understandable. Steele was the top dog, Nome's revered hero, and now he was an outcast much as Balto had been. The wolf-dog could relate, even if the relation was vague.

There was an impetuous rapping at the door, and Balto perked up his ears. Jenna woke up and nuzzled him sleepily, and the humans fidgeted beneath their fur blankets. The knock came again, and the two dogs got to their feet. Balto opened his maw in a yawn, and Jenna pranced over to her owners' bed, coyly pulling off the covers and wiggling her tail. Shivering, the man nudged his wife. "Josie, could you get that?" he said.

With a yawn of her own, Josephine got out of bed, plucking the blanket from Jenna's teeth and setting it back. Donning her slippers, she meandered over to the door and managed a tired "Who is it?".

"It's Phil," came the reply. Phil was one of the town's mushers, running mail to and fro. He had been a long time acquaintance of Josephine and her husband Jonathan, and when he showed up at late hours, it was usually bearing bad news. Knowing this, Josie reluctantly opened the door. Phil smiled sheepishly, a carosine lamp in his hand. "Josie, it's good to see you. May I come in?"

"You don't have to ask twice," she replied, shivering slightly.

Nodding, he entered and set his lamp on the table, turning the flame down low.

"Can I take your coat?" Josie enquired.

"No, thank you," he said. "I'll be off again shortly; I'm just checking in."

"What about?" came Jon's voice as he sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes.

"Well, I'll be curt with you folks; the mayor's daughter has gone missing. He has people going door to door looking for her, but so far no luck. That's what I'm here about."

Josephine and her husband glanced at each-other uncertainly. "We don't know anything about that, but it's mighty odd," she said, looking over to their daughter. Rosy laid peacefully asleep beneath the covers.

"Where would a girl run off to in the middle of nowhere?" Jon added. "It's not like there's many places to go."

"That's why we're searching the town first. If luck has it, she'll be here somewhere - otherwise I don't know what we'll do." He picked up his lamp, then made for the door. "Well, I should keep looking. Sorry for waking you."

"It's all right. Good luck out there," Josie said.

"Thanks. You all take care." He smiled at the dogs and doffed his musher's cap, then stepped out into the cold night.

Josie and Jon returned to bed, minds abuzz with the news. It was seldom that people went missing in Nome, and more seldom for children to do so. Perhaps she had gotten lost in the alleys, or took an unannounced excursion to a friend's house. If she couldn't be found, then they had no doubt that their dogs would be involved in some manner of search team. Balto and Jenna were some of the best sled-dogs in town, and Balto's wolf blood had proven him an excellent tracker - they would be the first to be picked.

Settling down, the two of them closed their eyes and surrendered themselves to sleep - but Balto and Jenna stood wide awake, for they knew a great toil was ahead of them.


	2. The News is Told

Come the morn, the word was about town like a conflagration; the girl was missing and nowhere to be seen. People spread the tale, saying they would have to initiate a search, that almost every dog in town would be tasked to the chase. Some miners grew irascible at the news, saying that the postponing of their work wasn't worth the life of one girl - but it was the mayor's daughter, and he was not to be denied. This Doc told the other dogs as they sat around in the warmth of the boiler room.

They murmured between themselves, a note of worry in the air. "It's one travesty after another," Sylvie said, to general agreement.

"Yeah," Nikki began, "seems like us dogs can't get a break around here. What do yous think of this, Balto?"

"Well, it is odd. But if she is out there, I'm sure we'll find her."

"Except that we ain't search dogs," Kaltag added.

"No, we're not search dogs, but we _are _dogs. We're the best method of transportation these people have, and if they intend to go out there and look, then we're going to help."

"What about Steele?" Sylvie asked.

"Steele, that lousy mutt?" Dixie said, "They wouldn't use him if the world depended on it." Some chuckles went up from the crowd. "Well they wouldn't, would they?"

"They might," Balto replied hesitantly. "Uncomfortable as the thought makes me, he _is_ one of the town's best dogs."

"One of the town's best dogs?" Kaltag scoffed. "You remember what he did, right?"

"Yes, I remember." Balto shot him an admonitory glance. "I just mean to say that he's a good runner, and they _might_ place him on a team."

"Well don't you worry," Kaltag said, "if he gives you trouble, you come to me and I'll kick his tail."

"We all will." Dixie added.

"Thanks, guys." Balto smiled at them, then got to his feet and yawned. "Anyhow I should be off; going to check up on Jenna."

For most of the year the town of Nome was covered in snow and ice, and today was no exception. As Balto stepped out into the streets, he shivered at the gelid air. In some places the snow piled up to the windows, and many inhabitants ambled about in snow-shoes and thick habiliments.

The day saw a great hubbub about the town; miners walked by on their way to their claims, couriers ran the mail and news, and sled-teams bustled about, hauling loads big and small. Some of the people, recognising the town's hero, leaned down and patted him, while others simply smiled; one fellow on his way back from the butcher lodged a bone in Balto's maw before he could object. When he finally found Jenna, he spat it onto the ground and sighed. "Being a hero is hard work."

"Surely it's not _that_ bad," she replied with a chuckle.

"Bones aren't really my thing," he said with a grin.

"People are mostly friendly around here; give it time and you'll get used to it."

"They weren't before."

"That was different. People fear what they don't understand, and they just saw you as a potentially dangerous wolf hybrid; but they know you now - they see you as a hero." She walked closer to him as she spoke, nuzzling him on the cheek. "You're _my _hero."

The wolf-dog blushed and chuckled, returning the nuzzle. "Oh stop it."

"Make me," she countered with a playful growl.

Within moments he was chasing after her, running through alleys and around precarious bends. The snow kicked up wildly from their paws, spraying anyone unfortunate enough to be in their path. She bounded up a pile of crates, onto an awning, and then she was leaping from rooftop to rooftop, Balto fast at her heels. She hopped across a clothesline, and the wolf-dog followed, the thrill of the chase in his eyes. Finally, she slid to a stop.

Balto plodded up beside her and they took a seat atop a relatively flat section of roof. "You're getting good at that," he said.

"I learned from the best." Jenna gave him a wink, then licked him on the cheek, causing him to blush again.

From their vantage point they could see most of Nome and the world beyond. Snow-covered rooftops glittered in the cold morning sun; clouds large and ominous blanketed the horizon to the east; the mountains sat, ancient, stoic and grey, to the north beyond plains of snow and ice; and in front of them, to the west, lay the Bering Sea, shimmering and ethereal.

"There's no place like Nome," Balto mused with a smile. This was the primary reason he loved the rooftops; not for the height, nor the joy of deftly leaping across them as if they were a giddy playground - but for the vista.

"No," Jenna replied, "and I imagine there's not any place like it in the entire world," she said, leaning into his side. She closed her eyes, enjoying his warmth and the delicate touch of his fur against her nose. Soon they were laying side by side, nestled against each-other and dreaming of the future.


	3. The Search Begins

When they returned to the streets below, the mushers were busy assembling their teams. The mayor had set out messengers, instructing each team of their duties. Balto and Jenna were walking through the throng of people in attempt to garner some information, and when they reached Balto's team they found it. It was the mayor himself, and he was discussing the plan with Leon, the best musher in town.

"Lee and his team are going to scout out the southern hills. There's a lot of open land between there and here, so if she's out there they'll see her. Edgar is going to skirt the coast of Norton Sound between here and Solomon with Jenna as his lead. Those dogs Dixie and Sylvie will be with them, and they're good runners; I just hope Dixie's size doesn't cause any problems - then again, I trust Edgar's judgement."

Leon scratched at his scruff. "That's good - seems like you've got most of it covered - where do I come in?"

"Well, Balto is the best dog in town and he's yours, so I want you and your team making the trip to the north-eastern forests and looking there."

"What makes you think she's out that far?" Leon said.

"I don't know, but in my mind I think someone went and took her; and what better place to hide than amongst the trees? I have a few teams looking around the outskirts of town, but if she was here we would have found her already - she would have come home, or something. Plus, that Balto of yours is part wolf, right?"

"That's right."

"So he might not be a trained search dog, but I'm willing to bet he's got a mighty fine nose. He could smell her miles away," the mayor said. He then pulled a coonskin hat out of his coat and handed it to the musher. "That's her favorite hat," he claimed, pointing a finger at it. "It's got her scent all over it."

Leon lifted it to his nose and took a long whiff. "Smells like coon."

The mayor chuckled. "Leave the sniffing to Balto; I'm sure he'll know what to do."

Leon put the hat into his pouch and pulled his hood over his face, going to strap in the rest of the dogs. "Oh, and Leon," the mayor said, "try and bring back my girl."

"I'll do my best."

Balto and Jenna sat down by a building, and the wolf-dog sighed. Jenna, sensing his discomfiture, leaned into him. "Looks like we won't be running together," he said with a frown.

"The important thing is that we find her," Jenna replied. "Besides, I'm sure we'll meet up again afterwards."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." He smiled lightly. "I just don't like being away from you. Ever since Boris flew south, I don't really have anyone to talk to when you're gone."

"Hey," she said, pulling him into a hug and licking him on the cheek, "it's alright."

He smirked and hugged her back, sighing softly.

Balto bid her farewell and returned to his team. By the looks of it he was just in time, as the musher was finishing up Kaltag's traces and the only dog missing was him. He grinned and plodded forward to several greetings from the other dogs. Kaltag, Nikki and Star were happy to see him, as were the rest of them - but happiest of all seemed to be Leon, whose grin nearly cleft his face in two. Deftly, he lead the wolf-dog to the front of the team and strapped him in, giving the straps a tug here and there to make sure nothing was loose.

Within minutes they were off, running across the frozen plains of Alaska. To the north-east was a thin green line of conifer trees wherein they were headed, and the dogs raced towards it as fast as the wind. It had been the better part of an hour when they skirted past the forest's edge, one by one ensconced by the umbrage of the dark green canopy. A large and rocky knoll rose to their left, which the musher directed them around. Having found little of interest, they continued on until they reached a brook that ran steadily despite the cold.

Leon urged the team onwards along the brook's edge, his silvery eyes scanning the surroundings as they plodded on; if anything was out of place, he assured himself, he would see it. "Miss Clarissa will be found," he called ahead to the dogs. "We'll make sure of it."

The sun was getting low in the sky, and thin auburn trails crept between the trees. For miles they had travelled seeing almost nothing but tree, rock and snow - but every once in a while Leon stopped them, noticing a snapped branch or some displaced earth. Something or someone had gone this way. On these occasions Leon would offer Balto the hat; the wolf-dog would give it a few whiffs and then lift his nose to the air, but it was in vain. Whatever passed through here was long gone.

They climbed steadily down until they reached a tarn, girded on almost all sides by tall, wooded hills. The lake itself was frozen, but figuring it was as good a place as any, Leon pulled the team to a stop by its banks. He disembarked from his sled and began unloading the supplies he had brought for the journey. Among them was a tent, some timber, flint and steel, a few long sticks and some twine, a cooking pot, a modicum of frozen and salted meats, potatoes, some bags of chow for the dogs, and some medical supplies.

As the sun fell from the sky, he went about his business untying the dogs, setting up the tent, and lighting a fire. He had brought less timber than he thought, so he took an excursion to the nearby woods and snapped off whatever branches he could. When he returned, he set the flint and steel to it until it glowed faintly orange, and then he gently blew on it until the flames grew, licking at the freezing air. He set up the sticks in the fashion of a tripod and strung them together at the top, then tied the rest of the rope onto the pot's handle. He grabbed a jug of water and filled the pot, and cut a few potatoes to boil. Satisfied, he clapped his gloves together and got to setting out and filling bowls for the dogs.

"This stuff's pretty good, aye Balto?" Kaltag said as he ate.

Balto took a moment to consider. "It's not _bad_, but I wouldn't call it good."

"I can't even tell what it's supposed to be," answered Nikki. "Some kind of beef, maybe?"

"Yeah, I was kidding." Kaltag grinned. "The stuff's crap, but it's better than nothing."

"Amen to that!" Star exclaimed.

Finishing their meals, Leon resigned himself to his tent and the dogs began digging up the snow in various places. Balto finished first, plopping himself down into a small pit. Kaltag was next, then Nikki, then Star; the other dogs finished around the same time as Star, and within moments they were all engirdled by their recesses. Balto curled up and rested his chin on his paws, closing his eyes and letting the darkness take him.

Later that night as the moon crested the hills, a faint rustling awoke Leon from his tent. Startled, he grabbed his Winchester which was propped against the tent's interior and quietly snuck outside, examining his surroundings. Soon the dogs were up and about, sniffing at the air and listening. Nothing could be seen except for firs, the barrows, and the lake; all illumined by the pallid light of the moon. The rustling continued, its sound carried on the zephyr that crept across the lake and through the trees. Suddenly, there was movement in the thicket, and Leon levelled his gun. The face of a husky appeared, and then another dog came out of the blackness behind him. Soon there were nearly ten dogs that had come out of the brush and onto the banks, towing a sled upon which was a man. He alighted from the sled and pulled off his hood, looking around. The musher saw the camp, and then he saw Leon perched by the tent, gun aimed square at him. "Leon!" he called, grinning widely. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Gunnar?" he said whilst lowering his rifle. The other man approached slightly, and Leon could now see him in the moonlight; recognising his old friend, he dropped the gun and chuckled. "You scared me half to death." He gave Gunnar a slap on the shoulder. "I thought maybe a bear or a pack of wolves had found their way into camp."

"No sir, I was tasked to scout this area; much like yourself, it seems!"

"Guess the mayor's pretty certain his daughter's out here somewhere," Leon stated, taking a seat by the fire. It had died down to a few embers, and he was quick about rekindling the flame. "So, you hungry?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact. Let me go fetch some jerky and I'll unhitch the dogs." Gunnar walked to his sled and grabbed a linen-wrapped bundle. He went to untie the dogs and then stopped himself, instead returning to Leon and passing him the jerky. "I thought you were going to free the dogs. What's up?" Leon asked.

"I just remembered something," he replied. "Steele's my lead dog, and I know he's had some rough history with your team. You think they'll be alright being allowed to mingle?"

"Ah shit, well..." He scratched his head. "That might be a problem - we'll just have to try and keep them separated. Shouldn't be too hard keeping one dog aloof."

"Yeah, though the others might go after him."

"Don't worry, Gun; I'll keep my team in check. Let's just hope Balto doesn't panic and try to run off. There's some real bad tension between those two; Steele nearly killed him once, though I wasn't in much of a state to try and prevent it at the time."

"We'll just see what happens." Gunnar shrugged. "Get cooking on that jerky and I'll go untie them."

"Aye." Leon sat down and began to skewer the strips of beef, positioning them over the flames, whilst Gunnar returned to his team.

* * *

**Remember, if you like the story, please leave a review. :)**


	4. The Letter

Daniel's team had been travelling nearly two-hundred miles, all whilst a tempest of snow harried them. The weather didn't daunt him; he had faced worse on several occassions. But him and his team were tired, and ergo fain to get out of the cold - so when he saw the light of the next roadhouse twinkling up ahead, he allowed a smile to touch his otherwise stoic countenance. Coming upon it, he ordered his team to halt. He left the sled and climbed the snow-covered steps, knocking upon the door. Within moments a face appeared in the mullioned window, and the door was quickly unlocked and the courier ushered inside. He clapped his gloves together and hung them above the hearth, taking a seat by one of the roadhouse's many small tables. "Courier?" the keeper asked.

"The name's Daniel, and yes." He held out a hand, but the other man shrugged and turned away.

"Nenana to Nome?"

"That's right." The courier was beginning to suspect this roadhouse keeper wasn't the most talkative of people.

The man called out the name of Tyler, and a young boy looking no more the age of sixteen ambled out of one of the back rooms. "Dogs," said the keeper, pointing to the door. Understanding what this meant, the boy rushed outside to tend them and set up their shelter for the night.

"I'd like a room for the night," Daniel said, "and a flask of whiskey, if you have any."

"No whiskey," the keeper said. "Room's in the hall."

"Which room?"

"Any."

Daniel retired to his room. It was a small quod with a window and an old feather bed on the far side. He doffed himself down to his pajamas and crawled onto the soft mattress, pulling the thick wool blanket over his head. He was so exhausted that he fell asleep nearly the moment he closed his eyes. When he awoke it felt like no time had passed at all; the only indicator that he slept was the sunshine, glittering white in the frosted window. Aside from that, he felt as tired as ever; but he had a job to do, so he stretched away his exhaustion and quickly suited up. Back in the main room, the attendant was scrubbing down the tables - more out of habit than necessity, Daniel supposed - it looked like he was the only one to stop by here in a while. Seeing him, the man stopped what he was doing and looking at him with a gaze that said _Do you need something?_

"Coffee," came Daniel's verbal reply, "and eggs, if you have them."

The man grunted and disappeared into the kitchen. Daniel looked around and picked a seat, and he was about to sit down when he saw something that caught his eye: A lone envelope rested upon a table by the entrance. Curious, he got up from his chair and ambled over to have a look. The envelope was entirely prosaic to the eye; the only indicator that it might be important was the writing scrawled onto the front, which read:

_To: Maynard, Mayor of Nome_

_From: An old acquaintance_

Daniel scratched his beard and turned it over, but there was nothing else on the exterior to be seen. He held it up to the light of the window, but whatever inside was dark and unreadable. Perhaps whatever was therein was wrapped to stop prying eyes, he supposed. When the man returned a few minutes later with his breakfast, he thanked the man and handed him a quarter as payment, then brought attention to the note.

"Ah yes," the man said, finally talkative for once, "a fellow stopped by a few days ago and said to give it to the next courier passing through."

"Did he say who he was?"

"Nope."

Daniel pursed his lips. "Did you see his face?"

"No. When he came by it was storming pretty bad outside, and he had a scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face, which considering the weather I didn't find none too suspicious. I asked if he wanted to come inside, but he politely refused and took off into the storm - damn crazy, I'd say."

"That's odd - did he have a sled-team?"

"I'd assume so, else he wouldn't make it very far."

"All right, well thank you. I should get going." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a nickel, placing it on the table. "For the lad," he said, taking the parcel into his coat.

The storm had cleared outside, but still the skies were bleary and overcast. As he was strapping up his team, he couldn't help but wonder at the purpose of the letter, as well as the fact that he still had two-hundred miles to go; at least there were plenty of stops along the way.


	5. Balto to the Rescue

Steele was trussed up to the base of a tree, his lead secured onto his golden collar. Before Gunnar separated him from the rest of the dogs, he saw the camp, and he knew its residents. The wolf-dog was there, along with his former acquaintances. There was no doubt in his mind that they would verbally deride him the moment they got the chance, and so he was more than fain to stay here behind the knoll. The husky wondered if they knew of his presence yet - they would at least suspect him, as his scent was in the air, exacerbated by his fear.

Every once in a while Gunnar would come around the bend with a bowl full of grub and some fresh water. He would wag his tail torpidly in silent thanks, eat the food, and then curl up underneath a low-hanging bough which afforded him some shelter. The hours went by, one as trite as the other - but he would rather face boredom than suffer at the paws of his former colleagues - as long as they were on their side of the hill and he was on his, he was content. Hopefully come the next morn the mushers would finish up their business and be on their way; then he wouldn't have to worry about Balto, Kaltag, Nikki, or Star until the next time they met, if they met again. _After this, I should leave. _he thought to himself. _I'll _g_o far away where no one can find me, and be alone with my guilt._

The sky was relatively clear, and the sun was approaching its zenith. To the east a strip of grey threatened the horizon, but Steele thought little of it; there was almost always a storm somewhere in Alaska. He sighed and plodded over to his bowls; they were both empty, though he didn't recall exhausting them. Perhaps his mind was too befuddled with other things, or maybe a squirrel got to it while he wasn't looking. Either way, he wasn't all that hungry or thirsty; he was just bored of being tied up. He walked forward as far as the lead would allow, and then he gave a few tugs, turning this way and that to try and get a feel for it. The husky grunted - it wouldn't matter how hard he pulled or which way he tumbled - the lead wasn't going to break.

Steele heard the sound of snow crunching, and his body tensed. His gaze was transfixed on the bend, and he held his breath, expecting anyone to appear around the corner. When he saw Gunnar as well as a few dogs from his team, he sighed in relief.

"We're here to keep you company," the musher said, refilling his bowls. He then proceeded to place and fill bowls for the other three dogs, and when he was done he went to take off Steele's collar. The husky looked up at his owner with curious eyes, his head tilted in question. "Leon and his team went for an excursion, see if they could find anything. He left me to watch over the camp, so you have free reign to walk around for a few hours." Steele barked at this, but it was half-hearted. He could run if he wanted to, but where would he go? He didn't think he could survive out there in the bleak and lonely expanse of the woods.

Finishing his food and having a few laps of water, he took his owner's advice and walked about the camp. He sniffed at the charcoal firepit, then stood up on his hind paws to get a better whiff of the cooking pot. Within he smelled the phantasmagoric remains of bacon and eggs, causing his mouth to water. It seemed like a fortnight since he last ate something other than dog food; the stuff wasn't bad, but he pined for something more wholesome. An idea came to him, and he grinned to himself.

The husky returned to Gunnar's side, nuzzling his leg. At first the musher didn't notice, as he had preoccupied himself with a book. Repeating the action, the man took notice of the dog. Steele was sitting with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, his tail wagging stupidly. Gunnar laughed, and then patted him upon the head.

"Steele, what's up?" he asked. Steele barked in reply and trotted over to the campfire, causing the musher to get out of his chair and follow him. He led the man over to the cooking pot and pawed at it. "Hah," he said, realising what the dog wanted, "so you want bacon, is that it?" Steele yipped in reply. Grinning, he went to the sled and opened up a box labelled 'RATIONS'. There were strips of bacon he had bundled up in a linen cloth, and these he took over to the site of the campfire. Within minutes he had fetched enough tinder to start a flame, and he filled the pot with spare water, setting the bacon in once it came to a boil. As he worked, Steele paced around, his tail wagging rapidly. Gunnar chuckled at the sight. Once the bacon was finished, he pulled the pieces out with a pair of tongs and set them in a bowl. He gave them one at a time to Steele, who wolfed them down almost the second they reached his muzzle. After they were all gone, which was in a matter of seconds, Gunnar chortled to himself. "That'll be the last for a while," he said, tousling Steele's fur. The husky whimpered in understanding. After their rest, Gunnar walked Steele back to his spot by the tree and tied him up. He left the husky and returned to camp, tending to the other dogs.

It was growing late when the others returned, the sky an agglomeration of saffron and purple. Steele could hear the two mushers talking, even from his remote location.

"So, did you find anything?" Gunnar was asking.

"No," came the reply, "there were no tracks or any other sign of her. If she's here, it's going to be a tough time finding her - this forest sprawls on for miles in every direction."

"Hopefully the mayor has more people than us out this way."

"Yeah, shoot. Well come tomorrow, we should pack up camp and resume our search."

Steele could hear them preparing for the night. He nestled himself up against the tree, shivering from the cold. The sound of pawsteps shuffling through the snow alerted him, and he perked his ears nervously. From around the bend came Nikki, Kaltag and Star, and Steele blanched at the sight of them. He tried to back away, but his lead tugged at his neck. _I should have run when I had the chance. _he chided himself.

"Well well, lookie what we got here!" Nikki began, smirking to himself. "One would think yous wouldn't be around anymore having been exo...ex...uh-"

"Exocommunicated?" Star suggested.

"Yeah, that! And with what ya did, I'm surprised you haven't."

Steele glared at them, unable to muster a reply. Almost every night since he was discovered to be a worthless craven, he feared this day might come - and now it had. He whimpered, shrinking back. "What's the matter?" Kaltag scoffed. "We thought you were the meanest, the nastiest, the stupidest dog in town!"

"Yeah!" Nikki and Star cried in tandem.

"What's a matter, did we hurt your feelings?" Nikki said with a grin. "Give it to 'im, boys!"

At his command, the trio turned around and in pell-mell fashion began kicking snow towards the husky. Steele tried to wrench himself away, but it was no use; his lead wouldn't allow escape. The snow coated and pelted his fur relentlessly as he turned this way and that. A few flakes made contact with his eyes, and he yelped in pain, grimacing as he tried harder and harder to get away. Suddenly, Kaltag dislodged a stone from the ground and it hurdled towards him, hitting him square upon the cheek. He yowled, and his body fell to the ground. He lied still, hoping that perhaps they would go away.

"Guys!" a voice called out, causing Steele to look. Tears were brimming his eyes, but from his bleary view he could see Balto coming around the hill. He looked furious. "What's going on?" The gang quickly ceased their attack and looked at Nome's hero sheepishly.

"We were just, uh...teaching a lesson?" Nikki said.

"Yeah, a...lesson." Star muttered, suddenly unsure of himself.

Balto growled, baring his teeth. "You should leave him alone."

They glanced at each-other uncertainly.

"Look, just cut it out."

"But he almost let the children-"

"I _know _what he did," Balto interjected, "and so does he. Harrassing him won't change that."

"Alright, alright," Kaltag replied. "Come on guys; let's get out of here."

The group left, muttering to themselves. After they were gone Balto let out a sigh, then looked apologetically to the husky curled up on the ground.

"Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step towards him. Steele didn't respond, and several moments of silence passed. Finally, the malamute spoke up.

"Just go away," he said with a choke.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Balto glowered, and then with a sigh his countenance turned to one of sorrow. "Steele," he began, "I'm not your enemy."

"Do you expect a pat on the back?" he spat. "I..." The malamute could feel the tears brimming his eyes, ready to fall at a moment's notice. "I just don't want to be seen like this. Please, go."

Balto looked at his nemesis, and then hung his head. "Alright." He turned around languidly and plodded off. Steele watched him through tearful eyes, watched as he vanished behind the hillock. Once his paw-steps faded into silence and was certain the wolf-dog was gone, he buried his face in his paws and began to sob. _Thank you._


	6. The Attack

The snow was blowing with the fury of a tempest, and the visibility was poor. For miles they had plodded on in the nigh-blinding conditions, and there was still no sign of the girl. If there had been tracks, they had long since been snowed over. They trekked through copses and over arduous hills, across frozen lakes and barren tundra. The wind was so fierce that they often had to stop and bunker down, taking shelter wherever they could; behind giant stones or sequestered dells, though out on the ice-fields they had no such comforts.

By evening they had returned again to the forest. There was a small escarpment to the east which appeared to be protected from the wind, and Leon instructed his dogs to climb its snowy banks. The climb was difficult, as the slopes were dotted with black spruce which the dogs and sled had to maneuver around. Here and there were also rocks which impeded their progress. At one point the climb became so steep that they had to travel around, which took close to half an hour. When they again found their path, the weather had begun to clear and the top of the escarpment was in sight.

They made camp within an outcropping of rock. Since it was relatively sheltered from the elements, Leon didn't bother setting up a tent; instead he simply untied and fed the dogs then went to sleep. Perhaps come the morn he would climb higher and look about; he needed to figure which way was north, as that was the general direction Gunnar would be heading. Before they split up, they had both agreed they could search better that way; one of them might spot something the other missed.

Balto had begun to dig his sleeping-hole when Kaltag, Nikki and Star approached him. They all had the look of contrition upon them. Kaltag stepped forward. "Hey," he said, more apologetically than anything else.

"Hey," Balto replied. "what's up?"

"We wanted to apologise for giving Steele a hard time. We were just doing what we thought he deserved."

Balto cast a transitory glower at them and then sighed. "It's fine. He probably deserves all the derision in the world for what he did, but I can't bring myself to allow it."

"Why?" Star asked.

"Because before it was him being pushed around, it was me," Balto said accusingly. "I know what that feels like, and I don't want anyone to go through that; not me, not him, not anyone. As I said previously, he knows what he did, and I think he's truly sorry for it. Giving him a hard time won't change the past, and it'll only serve to push him into some very dark places that no one should have to experience. You wouldn't like it if it was done to you, so just don't do it to anyone else, alright?"

"Yeah, alright. Sorry about all this," Kaltag said.

The three of them turned to walk away, but then Balto spoke up. "Hey, it's fine. You guys were just doing what you thought was appropriate; but just because you think something is right doesn't mean it is. Sometimes you have to think before you-"

At that moment, there was the sound of underbrush breaking, and some of the dogs that weren't asleep began barking wildly, their teeth bared. Balto and the others rushed over to see what the ruckus was about, and Balto's fur stood on end. Coming up the hill was a large hulking shadow, its glossy coat rippling in the moonlight. A black bear. It roared a threat, its head swaying in fury, and the dogs continued barking. Some began running about, rousing the others. Leon woke from his sleep, muttered some profanity under his breath, and rushed over to the scene. When he saw the beast climbing up the hill, his eyes went wide and he blanched. He awkwardly stumbled over to the sled and got his rifle, rummaging through the boxes to find some ammo. He found a box of bullets, loaded them one by one, and ran back to the dogs. "Go away, you hear!" he shouted, levelling the gun at the bear. "Go on, get!"

The bear roared again, standing on its hind-paws menacingly. Taking the opportunity, he aimed at its heart, fired, and missed. The bear dropped back to all fours, wounded and infuriated. It began charging up the hill, bounding over rock and log. Panicking, Leon fired another shot, and another, his rifle cracking like thunder. Each shot only seemed to enrage the bear further, and within seconds it was in their midst, swatting dogs left and right. Most of them ran off in a blind panic, including Nikki, Kaltag, and Star, who all bounded down the hill and disappeared into the night, yelping in fear. The beast fell on Leon, his scream silenced by a single swipe to the head, and then it turned to Balto.

The wolf-dog growled, then made a lunge for its face. The bear swatted him aside effortlessly, and the pain shot through him as his back collided with the rock. He tumbled down the hill, hitting a few trees on the way down, then smashed into the snow at the bottom and grunted. He weakly looked up to the top of the hill, expecting the bear to come down after him and finish the job, but it was nowhere to be seen. Whimpering, he got up and tried to walk only to fall back down into the snow again. Balto closed his eyes, and the world was dark.


	7. At the Sign of The Northern

From where he was standing, he could see the lights of Nome down below. It was perhaps only five more miles, and the weather that harried him for the past week had cleared the previous night. He took a moment to rest, then ordered his team back into action. Throughout the arduous journey, the note incessantly entered his mind - what was it, and who was it from? Ofttimes he was tempted to rip it open and read it for himself, but he stilled himself; it was intended for the mayor and the mayor alone, not for his prying eyes.

At the base of the mountain was a spinney, which Daniel and his team entered. The path that wound through it was anfractuous and slippery, the brush serried, but he urged the dogs onwards. Once they were out of this it was a clear shot to Nome; nothing but a snowy plain. The sled whined and moaned as it went over the rough terrain. The runners were cracked, Daniel knew; he'd have to purchase a new sled whilst he was in Nome - he just hoped the remuneration for the trip was fair. Mayors and the like tended to be a penurious bunch, he found - but luckily that note wasn't his only delivery. He also had food, wood, boxes of ammo, tools and various other supplies. If the mayor didn't pay him, Nome's citizens would.

Clear of the thicket, Daniel whipped the team, ordering them to go faster. The sooner they were in Nome, the sooner they could rest. Perhaps he would also garner something about the note while he was there. It was a long few miles, but finally he was travelling on one of Nome's roads, the buildings on the outskirts drifting slowly past. Up ahead he could see the post office, marked by a single wooden sign. He pulled his dogs to a stop, and a man walked out to meet them. "See to it that they're fed and sheltered," Daniel said.

The man nodded. "Will do."

He kicked the snow off his boots and headed inside. Within was a single stout man, clad in a suit and wearing spectacles upon his nose. When Daniel walked in, the man looked up from his newspaper and smiled. "Daniel," he said, standing up, "it's good to see you!"

"Likewise, Phil. How's things?"

"Good enough. This place has been a little busy as of late, and the situation with the mayor's daughter is highly unfortunate - but other than that I'm chipper as ever!"

Daniel pulled the envelope from the folds of his coat. "About that, I received this on my way here. It might be relevant."

"Oh?" Phil said curiously. "Let me see."

The clerk reached out, and Daniel handed him the letter. He looked at the back, then he studied the scrawl on the front. "How ineffably prosaic."

"Indeed," Daniel replied. "So, can you bring that to the mayor for me? My bones are aching and I need a rest."

"Yes, yes." He shook Daniel's hand, and then they parted ways.

The courier left the building, his breath visible in the cold air. Some people were up and about, though less than usual. He drew his scarf over his face and then began searching for a place to stay. It wasn't long walking before he spotted a large building, a sign above the doors that read: _The Northern._

He entered through the front doors. Inside it was relatively dark; a lone chandelier hung from the ceiling, but the crowd was bustling. To the right was the bar, several patrons lining its seats. Up ahead was a stage, where a four man band was playing a sprightly tune. Below the stage people tarried, laughing and dancing. Some drank as they danced, and Daniel shook his head at the sight. He went over to the bar and took a seat, and a single waitress sashayed over to him. "Hey, sweetie," she said, a smirk on her lips. "What can I get you?"

"A coffee," Daniel replied, then added: "What do you got for food?"

"Same stuff as usual, darling. Bacon, eggs - both scrambled and broiled, soup and sausage."

"Eggs and sausage sounds good, thanks." He placed a quarter on the table and she took it, then left for the kitchen.

Daniel took the opportunity to look around. The patrons near him were fairly grizzled; most bore alcoholic drinks, and seemed to have their fair share of life bearing down on them. The fellow nearest to him had greying hair, his face flecked with stubble. He was absorbed in his whiskey and didn't seem aware of the world around him. Only when Daniel said "Hello," did he look up.

"Huh, what do you want?" he asked, brows furrowed.

"Just saying hello, making casual talk."

"There ain't nothing to talk about," the man grumbled, taking another swig from his flask.

Daniel shrugged. "There's always something to talk about."

"Well there ain't now." He glared at the courier, then got up and walked away. The waitress returned and set his food and coffee out before him, then asked: "Anything else?"

"Yeah," he said. "That fellow that was sitting next to me a few moments ago, what was his problem?"

"That's his business, isn't it?" she replied. "But if you have to know, a fellow took him."

"What do you mean, 'took him'?"

"Back in '06 when the gold was still booming, people staked their claims here, hoping to get a piece of the action. That man you spoke to was one of them. You see, a man - a politician - came up here at that time, and he jumped a lot of claims. He said that these claims didn't belong to people because they weren't properly registered under the law and all that," She snapped her fingers. "and he just took them."

"Didn't they get their claims back?"

"Oh they did, but this fellow held the claims for a while before he was driven out. By that time, some of them were totally depleted." She sighed to herself. "Some people never bounced back from it; they got stuck here with no claim, no money and nowhere to go."

Daniel thought for a moment. "Yeah, I get it. Damn, he sounds all wet. What was his name?"

"MacNamara."

"Huh, doesn't ring a bell." He shrugged. "Say, do you got any rooms for rent?"

"Sure do." She smiled and walked out from behind the counter. "Right this way."

She led up him upstairs and down a narrow hallway. At the end was a single black door wherein they stopped. "Here you are. How long are you staying?"

"Just a couple days. I'm a courier, next stop's Anchorage."

"All right, well you just let me know if you need anything else."

"Sure thing."

Once inside he hung his coat, then took a seat on the bed. He pulled off his boots and groaned, then flexed his toes. His feet were sore from the long voyage; he couldn't imagine how his dogs must have felt. He set his boots by the night stand and turned off the light, then got into bed. It was freezing, though he knew within a few minutes his body heat would ameliorate that. Daniel yawned, then he closed his eyes.

Within moments of settling in, there came a loud knocking at the door. He looked out from under the covers, and when the knocking came again he sighed and got dressed. Daniel opened the door to reveal an imperious looking man. "You Daniel? he asked, descrying the courier from foot to toe.

"That's me." Daniel replied with a twinge of uncertainty. "What's up?"

"The mayor wants to see you."

The man led him down the stars and outside The Northern, then down the street to the mayor's office. Within it was warmly lit, and the mayor was seated behind a dark mahogany desk. The mayor himself appeared florid, and when he saw Daniel he shot up to his feet. "You're the courier?" he asked.

"That I am."

The mayor slid the note over to him, and the courier picked it up, mulling over its contents.

_Maynard,_

_This is an unfortunate way for us to become reacquainted, but after the_

_last incident with your town's grody populace, I'm afraid there's little other choice._

_You see, it was quite the expense for me to travel all the way there_

_and do the work I did, and I would have had that gold_

_if not for your trifling people - especially that fool_

_Glenister. __I am asking simple re__quitement__._

_The sum of $50,000 will suffice, and in return_

_your daughter will be returned unscathed._

_Sincerely,_

_An Old Friend_

Upon finishing, Daniel clasped his hand to his mouth. "Well?" the mayor said, looking at him sternly. "Where did you get it, and who gave it to you?"

"I stopped by a roadhouse near Kaltag," he replied. "The keeper of the place gave it to me before I left."

"Who gave it to him?"

"He said he didn't know. Someone stopped by in the middle of the night while I was asleep and dropped it off."

The mayor glowered. "What did he look like, and where did he go?"

"He didn't know; his face was concealed."

Maynard sighed, then leaned back in his chair, clenching his hands into fists. "It doesn't matter. I have a suspicion as to who it is, anyways."

"MacNamara."

"How did you know?" he said with a grumble.

"Hearsay. He apparently caused a big fuss a while back."

"Oh it wasn't just big; it was huge." He slammed his fist on the desk. "That son of a bitch fucked us once, and now he's back to stir up more shit!"

They were silent for a moment, and then Daniel said: "You're not going to do it, are you?"

"Do what?"

"Pay the ransom."

At this, the mayor laughed. It had a menacing quality to it that Daniel didn't like. "No," he said. "We're going to get my daughter back, and then we're going to hunt this villain down and lynch him. Requitement indeed!"


	8. Reunion in the Woods

Shivering, he plodded through the bleary expanse of the forest, the chill at his heels. He was lost, his team scattered. He wasn't even sure if he could make it back to Nome. Wearily, Steele lifted his nose to the air and sniffed, but there was nothing beyond the evergreens and the deep, relentless cold. He looked around, hoping for a cynosure. There was nothing but trees and snow; a whiteness that permeated everything and mottled by the blackish brown of the flora. He didn't even know which way was east, the sun hidden behind a swarth of clouds. Grunting, he carried on through the woods.

The malamute continued on until he came to a pond, frozen over and black. The bushes that surrounded its banks were flowerless and barren, and their long tendrils crawled down over muddy slopes. A zephyr passed overhead, the trees swaying lazily against the grey sky. Quite a ways on the opposite side of the pond, the land dipped down for perhaps a mile and gradually climbed up again, reaching a tract high and overlooking much of the weald. Figuring this to be his best option, Steele left the pond and made his way for the ridge.

Overlooking its edges, he saw that the slope was sharper than he expected. It was nigh vertical, with small pines jutting out at awkward angles. Hither and yonder there would be a rock or a gentler hill, or the anithesis; a more precarious drop - but Steele saw no feasible way down that would not end in injury. He continued along near the banks, keeping space betwixt him and the immediate edges. For a while he continued on like this, until the land slowly but surely curved around and led him to a steady incline that sinuated its way down into the valley. As he became engirdled on both sides by the steep promontories, he felt overwhelmed by their gargantuan size - and then he remembered a tale about a girl and a fox that he had once heard in Nome. They had found themselves trapped in a cave, a polar bear pursuing them. He had paid little attention to it at the time, so he didn't know what became of them; but this valley reminded him of that cave, deep and dark. Above the trees became so thick that he only caught speckled glimpses of the sky, and he shuddered, wondering if a polar bear lurked here. He thought he could smell bear, but it was faint and implicit; a ghost on the wind.

Every once in a while a chilly gust caught him, and he would return to shivering; if he thought little of it, he could almost forget it was deathly cold - his senses were failing, he knew. He would have to find shelter, and quickly; but for the nonce he was occupied with getting to higher ground, if for nothing else than to survey his surroundings. The trees thinned out the further he went, and at last he could see the sky fully again. It was only when his joints complained that he realised he was travelling uphill. Reaching the cusp of the valley, he allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, and then he resumed his trek into the unforgiving woods. Everywhere he looked seemed the same, and the more he walked the more he felt like a mote in a vast ocean of trees. Weary, he was about to stop for a nap when something caught his eye; a line in the snow. Steele walked over to examine it, and he found that it was dog tracks; not just one, but many - and they were flanked on both sides by long squat lines. A sled-team had passed through here not long ago. With renewed vigor, Steele followed them through the forest.

It lead him around rock and tree, trough shady glen and over small ridges. At last the tracks led him to a lone kopje; as he approached it, the scent of blood was heavy in the air. He nigh turned back, but forced himself to go on. He climbed to the top of the hill, and his jaw dropped. In front of him laid the cadavers of several dogs, most of them torn to indistinguishable pieces. The sled seemed relatively untouched, though not far from it a body lay mangled in the snow. Steele walked over and gave it a whiff; it was Leon. The malamute turned from his remains and searched through the bodies. There was no sign of Balto, Kaltag, Nikki or Star anywhere, though their scent lingered; Balto's more than the rest. Perchance the wolf-dog was still here. He wasn't fain to come face to face with his old nemesis, but a pang of fear took root within him. Balto _had _stood up for him, and now that he was in potential danger, Steele found himself concerned, albeit only slightly, for the wolf-dog's well being.

He continued to search the area, but there was no sign of Balto other than his lingering scent. Steele brought himself to the edge of the hill, and at the bottom there was a small mound of snow. This he rushed down to, and digging with his paws found the wolf-dog lying unconscious. Worried, he looked around for victuals they could use. He bounded back up the hill and found a crate of meats overturned by the broken mess of the sled. Picking a slab of beef out, he consumed it with voracity. Steele then picked up another and brought it down the hill, setting it by Balto's side. He nudged the wolf-dog on the shoulder, but he didn't stir. Furrowing his brow, he tried it again to no avail. Balto was alive, he knew; it would just take some time for him to wake. Concluding this, the malamute walked a few paces off and curled up beneath the base of a tree, closing his eyes and hoping for rest.

When he woke, Balto was gone, though it wasn't long before he returned. Steele cast an oblique glance his way as he came up from the brush. "So what brings you here?" Balto said cautiously. "Where's your team?"

"Wolves," he said accusingly. "What about yours?"

"A bear." Balto sighed. "It ambushed us in the night."

"I see," he said, "and now we've found each-other in the wilderness with no one else in sight. I should kill you for what you've done." He approached the wolf-dog, a glower upon his face. "But I'm not going to, because it's not your fault." He paused for a moment. "I should probably say I'm sorry, so...sorry. Also, thanks for saving me back there."

Balto smiled. "No problem."

They walked on for almost a mile when Balto suddenly fell, thudding into the snow. Steele turned around, eyeing the wolf-dog curiously. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Balto replied. He brought himself to his feet and walked a few more paces before falling again. Steele approached him and looked him over, and then he saw it: Below the shoulder on the front right leg there was a gash. Most of the blood was dried, but a whit still seeped out from diminutive openings. Steele cringed at the sight.

"Looks like the bear got you."

"Is it bad?"

"It could be worse, but we have to get you back to Nome."

Balto grimaced, then tried to stand. He immediately cried out from the pain and laid back down. "I don't think I can walk that far," he said, tears in his eyes. "You should go back, maybe send help. And just in case, tell Jenna I love her."

"Cut that shit out." Steele grunted. "You're coming with me."

The wolf-dog looked at him with uncertainty. "But I can barely walk."

"Then I'll have to carry you. Come on." He lowered himself to the ground and motioned for Balto to climb onto his back. Hesitantly, Balto complied, and Steele rose to his feet, buckling from the weight. He wasn't sure if he could carry Balto, but he was going to try.


End file.
